Avatar: Framed
by ModernLoveIsATacoTruck
Summary: Katara is murdered, and all of the evidence points toward Aang. Sokka and the others names him guilty and leaves him alone on the streets. But did Aang really kill her? What will he do as a hated outcast? I fail at summaries. :  Read, review, and enjoy!
1. Chapter One: Framed

The sounds of people and animals romping off to their day's destination accompanied the songs ringing from the birds in the large Earth Kingdom capital. The upper ring of the Ba Sing Se remained the quietest, however, as the higher classes of citizens and visitors residing there were still either asleep or preparing for the day, for they had no early morning careers or schools to attend; they all began later in the day, allowing them to sleep in.

Aang, Katara, Sokka, Suki, and Toph had been given a new, large house in Ba Sing Se after the war had ended. For a week or two, they had to stay at the Jasmine Dragon, Iroh's tea shop, until the construction on their house had been completed. Within that time, Zuko had traveled back to the Fire Nation along with Mai to begin restoring the nation under new reign, keeping contact with the rest of Team Avatar by sending messenger hawks at least once a week.

The house that the Earth King had presented them with had plenty of space, consisting of seven bedrooms; one for each of them, and bedrooms for both Mai and Zuko if they came to stay some time. The outside of the earthen house was almost a marble-like stone, smooth to the touch. The front door was the type that would slide open to the side, allowing access into the front family room where everyone spent most of their time. In front of the short porch outside near the door, there were dark green, bushy shrubs that gardeners took care of for them, as well as the garden behind the house.

The well sized building was on the farthest inside end of the upper ring, close to the palace where the Earth King still lived. They had a few very wealthy neighbors who were clearly in for a surprise the day they learned that the Avatar and his companions were their next door neighbors. After adjusting to the Gaang being there, however, they did not bother them, but kept to themselves, leading their lives as if Aang and everyone else were never even there.

As his neighbors began to awaken for the day, Avatar Aang remained asleep. The twelve year old was exhausted, both mentally and physically, from the previous day. The Earth King and his generals had held a meeting that he was required to attend, which unsuspectedly lasted for over at least twelve hours. The boy was not able to make it back to the house until late that night after everybody else had fallen asleep. He was sleeping like a baby by early morning and refused to get out of bed the next day when Suki's voice flooded his dreams like a dam in his head had been broken.

"Aang! Wake up!" the Kyoshi warrior screeched. Aang heard her angry footsteps stomping toward him against the hard wood floor.

He only mumbled, pulling one of the soft white pillows over his head to block out the sound, only for it to be ripped away from him and thrown across the room. The airbender blinked and rubbed his eyes, letting them adjust to the light as the sight of the reddish-brown haired young woman, wearing a nightgown and a glare, towering over him found his mind.

"What's goin-?" The boy's words were cut off, and suddenly all he could feel was blood rushing to his head as two large hands held him a few inches off the bed by his neck. The young Avatar gagged, choking and gasping for air.

Aang pleaded for mercy with his eyes. Sokka's bright blue eyes appeared to have had darkened, clouded over with hurt and despair as he glared, a threatened hell reflecting in his eyes at the younger boy. The now-present Water tribesman released his tight grip on Aang's small throat, causing him to fall back into the blankets and sheets, which Aang now realized were splattered with dark dry blood.

The boy coughed and rubbed his neck; his voice small and raspy as he spoke. "What... What's going on?"

"You know exactly what's going on!" Sokka exclaimed. The almighty savior of the nations -and of the world - ducked his head in fear. He had never heard Sokka so antagonized before in his life. "You killed my sister!" Aang's eyes widened, and in seconds he felt like a small child who had wondered from his mother alone in a big city; lost and confused.

"What are you talking about?" Aang asked, scooting back on the bed. "Wh-Where's Katara..?"

Suki restrained Sokka by the arms as he attempted to lunge at the boy again, shaking her head in disgust at the situation. She grabbed Aang's arm and dragged him out of the room and across the hallway to the bedroom that Katara resided in. The room was what would, at first glance, be described as a crime scene.

The light blue walls were coated in oozing streaks of drying blood, the same blood in the form of small handprints were scattered around the lines of dark red. Shredded pieces of fabric, including Katara's water skin, were tossed carelessly across the floor. Clumps of dark brown hair matted with blood stuck to the floor and furniture and on one of Sokka's hunting knives that was usually displayed on the wall of the hallway. It had been thrown at the floor and the point of the blade stuck, keeping it upright and slightly slanted.

Aang walked forward to the knife. He bent down and ran his hand along it, collecting some of the silky hair. It was undoubtedly Katara's.

The Avatar fell to his knees, staring at the clump in his hands as Suki stepped up behind him. "What... What happened?" Suki ignored his question, finding no restriction to the ever-present glare she held upon him.

"How could you, Aang?" she whispered dreadfully. Aang released the hair from his hands and replaced it with his head.

"But I didn't do anything! I promise, Suki! I love Katara, I would never want to hurt her!"

Katara and Aang had been a couple since they had arrived in Ba Sing Se and shared a kiss on the balcony of the Jasmine Dragon one day as the sun set. Their feelings toward each other had only grown since then, and they had unshamefully kissed several times. Katara would sometimes accompany Aang to his meetings and help with politcal work. As for the particular meeting Aang had attended the night before, however, she had not been allowed entrance by the generals, so she stayed home.

"Aang, I really wish I could believe you, I do! But everything points toward you!"

"What do you mean?" he asked, lifting his head.

Suki pointed toward the wall they had entered from. There on the wall, smeared in blood like red paint, was Aang's name. He was stunned, having no knowledge as to how or why it would possibly be etched in blood on his girlfriend's wall. Suki then motioned toward the handprints all around the walls and to his hands. It was then that he realized they were red. Aang placed his hands on one of the prints, and sure enough, it matched the size perfectly. "And you WERE the only one up that late last night!"

"I don't understand! I didn't..." Aang trailed off as Sokka stomped into the bedroom. The younger of the two boys glanced at Suki, but she only stepped out of Sokka's way, crossed her arms and shook her head. Sokka clenched the collar of Aang's shirt and pulled him onto his feet.

Aang stumbled. "What are you doing?" Sokka began to drag him out the door and down the hall to the front door of the house.

"Get. Out," Sokka replied through clenched teeth. He slid open the door and shoved Aang through and down the stairs, hard enough so that he fell onto the street below on his hands and knees. He pulled his legs out in front of him and sat, staring at the house in shock as he tried to regain himself. Anger burning in his eyes, Sokka snatched up Aang's glider that was laying against the wall inside by the door and chucked it at him as hard as he could. The wooden staff skidded along the street, chipping off some of the wood. It stopped in front of the airbender.

He grasped his glider and looked down at it. Hundreds of thoughts flooded his mind at once._ What just happened? Katara is dead! Why won't they believe me? _The young boy felt so confused and slammed the door shut, leaving Aang outside in the street; and as his eyes floated up to the house, he felt more cold and empty inside then he ever had before. He was truly alone.


	2. Chapter Two: Iroh

_Aang grasped his glider and looked down at it. Hundreds of thoughts flooded his mind at once. The boy felt so confused as slammed the door shut, leaving Aang outside in the street; and as his eyes floated up to the house, he felt more cold and empty inside then he ever had before._

Realization crashed on Aang like freezing ocean waves. Not only had he suddenly lost two of his closest friends, but with this they had thrown at him the news that the love of his life had been killed; and by he, himself. But yet, he had no knowledge as to what had happened. Everything seemed to spin around him in one blur of pain and emotion, and the boy held his aching head in his hands as a bad dose of vertigo rushed over him. He felt sick, and had a great urge for some calming tea...

"Iroh!" Aang exclaimed in a sort of half-whisper, remembering the man. Perhaps Iroh had not yet heard of his accused acts of murder. Aang pushed himself onto his feet with the gracefulness of an airbender, all the while unfolding his staff so that it was in its glider form -the rich blue wings bright against the wooden frame stretching out from the staff core- and ready to carry him on the cool wind that was nipping at his skin and brushing his yellow and orange formal robes that he had fallen asleep in the previous night.

The young Avatar positioned the glider on his back and projectiled about fifteen feet into the air, then manipulated the air around him as he glided above the rooftops of the Earth Kingdom homes. It had been some time since he had actually used his glider to get around town. The flight to Zuko's uncle Iroh's tea shop, which was so proudly named the Jasmine Dragon, was not long at all as it was only on the opposite side of the upper ring. Aang simply did not want so much to be walking about the streets looking as pathetic as he felt. The people of Ba Sing Se did see him as their savior, after all, and he had no wish whatsoever to let them down by seeing him this way.

It was not only because of this reason that he did not want to roam the streets, however. He had never truly been considered a criminal before in his life, Fire Nation aside, of course, but he was not stupid, and knew he was sure to be in trouble with any dutiful officers that had heard about Katara's death. Aang had no doubt that they would see him as a horrible person abusing their power that everyone else was taught to worship, and that he could easily be in danger of getting arrested. The Avatar was to be seen as a monster. What he didn't understand, though, was why anyone would believe such a thing. Things so low and selfish as homicide were completely against his beliefs as an Air Nomad. He had spared even Fire Lord Ozai, the supposed worst man on the planet's life to end the war aside from what his friends had urged him to do.

The fact that his friends thought so badly of him made his heart burn and his eyes water. This was why he was going to see Iroh, though; he trusted that he would remain on his side and not automatically accuse him. Iroh was a wise man who was known for his great advice, and greater tea.

The airbender gratefully landed in the backside of the Jasmine Dragon. He wiped away warm tears from his cheeks as the salty water continued to flow and drip down his chin, creating a small puddle at his feet. Aang felt horrible.

He couldn't tell whether his mind was tricking him, or if the sky had really darkened. His sight was blurred with fresh tears; his knees hugged to his chest as he cried into them like a child. He sobbed quietly, feeling the temperature of the breeze drop more and more as time slowly went by, but he ignored it. Moments later, however, an ear-piercing crack of thunder crashed at his ears, and the sky lit up. The boy nearly jumped a few feet into the air as a familiar figure stood before him, the fierce wind swaying his hair and the fabric of his clothing.

Aang breathed sharply and wiped his face off as Iroh walked toward him. The old man was plump and not too much taller than Aang, and had pure white hair on his head and face past his shoulders. His skin was pale, signifying his family's line of royalty. Iroh was wearing a freshly washed tea-makers' outfit, consisting of light olive green robes topped over by a tan apron that was tied tightly over his protruding stomach. His hair was combed neatly back and braided into a queue. The only truly visible flaw in his appearance was the tea stains on his apron that he had not been able to wash out from the few times he had spilled a customer's tea.

"Hello, Aang!" Iroh called through the howling wind. He walked toward the twelve year old and reached a hand down toward him. Aang clasped onto his wrist and stood as Iroh pulled him onto his feet. The Avatar bowed in respect to the elder man, who bowed back as far as he could over his tea filled gut.

"Hi, Iroh…" Aang replied, stifling a hiccup. He sniffed and placed his hands over his eyes, looking down as embarrassment washed over him. Another ring of thunder clapped in the sky met their ears, and seconds later, sprinkles of salty, glistening rain began to pour down around them.

"Why don't we go inside?" Aang nodded as a response to Iroh's offer.

The two wiped the mud off their shoes and removed them before walking inside the apartment part of the tea shop. Iroh instructed Aang to have a seat on the new sofa as he hustled to the kitchen to put on a fresh pot of tea.

The family room in which Aang waited was filled with many shades of green and green-blue. It was nicely decorated with beautiful paintings of cherry blossom trees. Four separate canvases were lined among the wall in a straight line, each no larger than Aang's head, with a few inches between them. They all held the same painting of a black-and-white pond scene, as if someone had taken one long painting and cut it into four pieces.

There was one window in the room that looked out into the garden where many herbs to make tea with were growing. Light green-blue curtains hung on either side of the large frame, and below it was an antique Fire Nation trunk. Aang guessed it held some of Iroh's personal belongings from the Fire Nation. The floor was dark wood, with a large tan rug spread across the floor under all of the furniture.

Iroh burst back into the room cheerfully with two steaming cups of tea and set one in Aang's hands.

The man sat in a cushioned loveseat couch to the left of The Avatar, who was sipping the warm tea."Feel better?"

Aang nodded slightly.

"What brings you here so early in the morning?" Iroh asked.

"I… Something happened last night. Something really, really bad…" Aang set his tea down forcefully on the coffee table before him. "I don't know what to do, Iroh! They don't trust me!"

"Calm down, boy! You'll spill your tea! Now, tell me what it is that is troubling you."

Aang sighed, "Katara is dead…" Iroh gagged on his tea, eyes wide in surprise.

"They think it was me. I didn't even know what had happened until this morning! I can't go back, Sokka will kill me!"

Iroh shook his head, "Why do they believe that you have done this?"

"I guess because I got home so late last night when everybody else was asleep... And my name was painted onto the wall with blood. And this," he held up his hands, which had chipping dried blood covering them.

"You wouldn't..."

"I didn't!"

Thunder cracked in the distance and loud knocks were heard on the door they had entered from. Iroh stood and walked to the source of the knocking. Aang listened from the sofa as the door swung open and the two muffled virile voices of Iroh and an unfamiliar person spoke to each other. Minutes later, Iroh jogged back into the room and motioned for Aang to get up.

"They are looking for you; leave while you can!"

"What?" Aang stood up quickly. "Who?"

"Just leave!" Iroh exclaimed. He walked quickly back to the man at the door.

Aang picked up his folded staff, opened the large window and climbed out into the rain. The large drops beat down on his head. He unfolded the glider and once more began to fly over the large city, the water slightly weighing it down as it collected on the wings. He was not sure where exactly he was going, but he knew he had to go, and fast. It felt wrong to simply run from the police; he was being a coward. But if anything, he did not want to be imprisoned for doing no wrong. A court would surely find him guilty with such evidence, and with Sokka's persistance.

He would have to prove himself innocent some other way.

**Sorry, I know this chapter wasn't the best. But please leave constructive critisism, because that's what helps me. :) Thank you for reading, and thanks for reviews and favorites. **


	3. Chapter Three: Lightning

**Yes, yes, I know this is terribly short, but I don't want to hear your whining about it. ;P I write what I wish.**

_Aang picked up his folded staff, opened the large window and climbed out into the rain. The large drops beat down on his head. He unfolded the glider and once more began to fly over the large city, the water slightly weighing it down as it collected on the wings. He was not sure where exactly he was going, but he knew he had to go, and fast._

Each time he looked down to the ground, it seemed like there were more and more officers chasing him. The muscular men dressed in dark green uniforms, their robes much like the Dai Li agents', were gaining on him quickly, and Aang's only means of escape were to glide higher into the sky. They were earthbenders, so the sky was past their limit. Aang continued to soar higher, beginning to lose sight of them. Or perhaps he was just losing sight in general.

Endless clouds seemed to suck him into their moistness. Fog whooshed against him, filling his lungs and making beads of water drip off of his skin as rain continued to pour on him. The airbender steered his means of transportation down below the cloud he had gotten caught in, and yet the men were still chasing him on large ostrich horses, their beaks sharp and ready to tear him apart if necessary.

They were becoming angry; he could tell. Grimacing looks of impatience and raw determination were glued to their faces, and they whipped the reigns of their animals so fiercely that Aang was sure it must have been leaving some kind of gashes in them. He was afraid. It seemed at that moment that the entire universe was out to get him. There was nothing he could do but dread the circumstances as they became worse.

A nearly blinding flash of light cracked to the right of him from the sky like a whip, and a bolt of burning warmth filled the air surrounding him. He screamed in horror. The sensation was an eerily familiar one, had it not have been so cloudy. Lightning was one of his worst enemies. Not once had it done him well, and he was certain this time would be no exception.

Within seconds, the wing of his glider burst into an array of orange flames. The thick fabric-like material began to hiss. A hole had begun to burn outwards from the middle, the black remains eating away at the bright sky blue. The sky seemed to spiral all around him, and he rushed downwards, fire licking his hands temptedly. He tried to stop his fall with airbending, but it hardly cusioned it. All he could do was cry out in terror as his body collided with the ground in agonizing pain.

The cadaverous airbender skidded against the rough, rocky ground about two feet, ripping the top part of his robes to shreds on his left side and crushing his arm against his ribs. Blood gushed from the wounds as the boy wheezed, his breath hitching as he tried to regain himself after the oxygen had been shoved out of his lungs. Pain shot throughout his entire body from his back and he could feel a stinging sensation from the side of his head. The Avatar lay limp in a puddle of his own blood as darkness closed in from the corners of his eyes.

Aang fought to stay conscious as his body became numb. He crawled army style with his right arm and legs to a boulder and sat up against it, groaning in agony. His neck cracked as he lolled his head around. Aang looked down at his blood-coated arm. There was a large, open gash all down his forearm from the veins on his wrist, barely missing his blue arrow tattoo and turning the sides near it a purplish color. He clenched his teeth in pain as he picked the small rocks from the damp wound.

The boy pushed on the open wound with his hand, trying to stop the bleeding but not succeeding. He pulled off what remained of his shirt and replaced the position his hand was with it, applying pressure as it soaked up his blood, turning the cloth a dark red. Finally, minutes later, the bleeding stalled itself. Aang finished wrapping the cloth around his arm and lay on the ground, feeling lightheaded from the amount of blood lost. It could not have been enough to kill him at the time, but it did have its effects on him. He rested his head down and let himself fade out from the world for a while.

Aang closed his eyes and sighed as darkness flooded over his vision and clouded his mind, putting him to sleep.


End file.
